


Lost River

by milliondollargirl



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Comfort, Daryl is a weirdo, Domestic Fluff I guess????, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Jesus is a tease, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content, Smut, also a softie, i wrote this at work?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6481738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliondollargirl/pseuds/milliondollargirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hurt Jesus sometimes that most people wouldn’t actually know Daryl, and the people left in the world wouldn’t probably think about doing that. They’re so different it’s shocking, Jesus is an open book with a mouth ready to piss anyone off and Daryl is quiet, mysterious but his mind is fierce and brave, just like his heart.</p><p>Jesus feels something warm inside his chest every time he thinks about it; about the fact that Daryl actually trusts him, about the fact that Daryl was – is – worthy and he’s glad he didn’t give up even though it was hard to even convince himself they were a perfectly unperfect match.</p><p>Of course he had more trouble trying to show that to Daryl, but he knew, since the first time he looked at Daryl, he knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost River

**Author's Note:**

> Is it wrong that I'm trying to pretend that season finale didn't actually happen while I'm focusing on fluffy fanfictions????? Hope not.
> 
>  *waves right hand*
> 
> ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ no beta soooo all mistakes r mine, please bear with me. ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

 

 

“When did you get back?” Jesus said, startled by Daryl’s grumpy presence in the room. He looked tense, right hand on a fist and his mind seemed to be somewhere else since it took him a couple of seconds to look back at Jesus.

“Jus’ did.” He said back, getting up and taking his jacket off.

“Are you alright?”

“Ye.”

“Daryl…”

“Ya ain’t gonn’ stop askin’ until I tell ya something’s wrong, right?” The older man mumbled, trying to take his shirt off but somehow he wouldn't manage to do it; fingers too nervous, mind blown by the tiredness of his body.

Jesus smiled and started walking, stopping when he reached for Daryl, taking those larger hands away from the black shirt and starting to undo it himself. “What happened?”

“Shitty day, ‘s all.” Daryl murmured, still frozen under Jesus’ delicate fingers while the younger man took his shirt off.

“You want to eat something?” Jesus asked, placing Daryl’s shirt on a chair and pulling him close to the bed. “I can get you something to help you sleep, milk, I don’t know.”

“Nah.” He sighed, lying on the bed and staring at the lamp for probably too long. “Ain’t gonn’ help.”

Jesus sighed. “Turn around.”

“Wha' for?”

“Just do it. I’m gonna help you, I promise…” Jesus said, getting up with a happy expression on his face. “But first take off these jeans and boots, I’m just going to get something—I’ll be right back.” He kept saying while Daryl stared at him in confusion, pushing his own jeans down.

It didn’t take long for Jesus to get back with a bottle of something that smelled like an acid fruit in his hands. Daryl had thrown the jeans on the floor, wearing only his underwear, almost falling asleep when he heard the younger man stepping inside the room again. “What’s this?”

“Turn around.” Jesus repeated when he realized Daryl was lying on his back, sitting on the bed and waiting calmly while Daryl kept staring at him.

“Why?”

“Trust me.” He said, smirking, even though Daryl still looked too suspicious. When he said things like that it sounded like such an easy thing to do.

Maybe it was...Not everything has to be so complicated, he tried to convince himself every time.

He finally turned around, lying on his stomach and didn’t even move when Jesus sat on his back, legs placed each one beside Daryl’s. Jesus’ hands took a trip up and down the other man’s back, just feeling the tired but delicious skin under his smaller fingers and opening the bottle soon after so Daryl was sure it was a fruit scent – too sweet, but good – he heard Jesus throwing it on the bed, probably when he realized he already had too much on his palms, and sighed automatically when Jesus’ hands – now full of that sweet lotion – reached for his back again.

“You’re tense.” Jesus said, sounding like a fucking expert at massages or something and Daryl would’ve given him a smart answer if he wasn’t enjoying it so much.

After a few minutes of rubbing, grabbing and caressing, Jesus stopped for a moment, placing both hands on the mattress close to Daryl’s head and murmuring on the older man’s ear: “You still here?”

Daryl felt his body shiver and tried to nod, answering him after a few moments. “Ye.”

Jesus smiled against Daryl’s ear, rubbing his back calmly all over again while Daryl kept trying not to let out any type of noise or sign so Jesus wouldn't mock him or use it against him later.

When Jesus reached for the brim of his underwear, Daryl finally managed to place his elbows on the bed, looking back at him in a suspicious way that got the younger man laughing. “What?”

“Whatcha doing?”

“I’m trying to finger you, since you want to know so badly.” Jesus murmured, fingers still frozen on Daryl’s boxers and the older man gave him a shrug, pulling his hips up for a moment while Jesus finished taking that piece of cloth off him. “You look amazing.”

“Ye, ye.” Daryl replied without looking at him, trying to make Jesus stop saying shit like that already.

“You haven’t done this?” Jesus asked even though he already knew the answer; he just enjoyed making the older man talk and Daryl knew that. “With someone else, at least?”

Daryl simply shook his head negatively and Jesus touched his asscheeks, spreading them calmly and biting the right one with a sweet smile on his face while the older man kept staring at him, eyes behind his shoulders.

When Jesus ran one finger on Daryl’s tight hole, the older man sighed, getting his head down and pulling his hips against the bed, probably hard already just by the thought of it; Jesus pressed one finger inside slowly, left hand now placed at Daryl’s hip while he started fucking the older man with just one digit.

“Is this ok?”

“Yeah.” Daryl managed to say, trying to look back but too overwhelmed already, which Jesus loved it. He hadn’t even started and he couldn’t wait to see Daryl falling apart.

Jesus loved how responsive Daryl could be, even if it was just a peck of lips in the living room or one of their making out sessions outside the gates. Daryl would always act the same way; instinctive, fast, angry, surprised, profound, automatically – as if he’d been waiting to be touched his whole life – Jesus wouldn't understand, really, how was it possible for Daryl not to be courted by any men or women during his life, before all this shit happened – and even now. How it was possible for someone like him – gorgeous, analytic, intelligent and protective way too much to be so timid, so afraid of letting go even though his attitude would say otherwise.

It hurt Jesus sometimes that most people wouldn’t actually know Daryl, and the people left in the world wouldn’t probably think about doing that. They’re so different it’s shocking, Jesus is an open book with a mouth ready to piss anyone off and Daryl is quiet, mysterious but his mind is fierce and brave, just like his heart.

Jesus feels something warm inside his chest every time he thinks about it; about the fact that Daryl actually trusts him, about the fact that Daryl was – is – worthy and he’s glad he didn’t give up even though it was hard to even convince himself they were a perfectly unperfect match.

Of course he had more trouble trying to show that to Daryl, but he knew, since the first time he looked at Daryl, he knew.

Jesus pushed another finger inside him, fucking him faster than before while Daryl squirmed and kept rubbing his cock against the mattress, trying to take Jesus fingers and also get some relief on his cock. Jesus couldn’t help but moan, he was hard too, his jeans already bothering him.

“You’re a natural.” Jesus said in awe because something inside his chest told him Daryl needed that. He needed to know how hot and amazing and good he was. “Am I hurting you?”

“Nah. ‘S good.” Daryl said and Jesus nodded, chuckling and kissing Daryl's tailbone, leaving a trace of saliva on the older man’s back.

“I could fuck you with my tongue someday; I’d love to, really. Your ass is amazing.” The younger man said and Daryl nodded, hissing; probably didn’t even hear what Jesus had said but already hoping for whatever the other man had to give him while trying to understand those small but spry fingers finding every hiding and amazing space inside him.

“Wouldn’t mind.” Daryl managed to murmur and Jesus smiled, “I’m sorry, can you say that again?” he continued with a twist of fingers.

“Fuck ya.” The older man rasped and Jesus sat on his back again just to give him a kiss on the shoulder and murmur: “On your back.”

He stood beside Daryl while the other man turned around and it took him some time to recover from the sight he first caught.  
Daryl was flushed and for a moment Jesus thought he could see his blood running underneath his skin – but it was more than that – he looked lost inside lust, eyes sharp and dark like the knives he uses so much, the faint light on the lampshade touching his shoulders, chest and hair calmly; fingers shaking and cock hard, angry and leaking precum while Jesus kept trying to find a word to define all that inside his brain.

He took Daryl's cock in his fingers – the same ones that were inside him not so long ago – and started stroking in a calm pace that got the older man struggling to breathe right; with the other hand he reached for the bottle of lotion again, without stopping what he was doing he pulled Daryl closer to him by his hips a little bit more, lying between the older man's legs and pushing one finger inside him again, making Daryl moan.

“Won’t last.” Daryl said as a warning, sounding like he was in a fight with someone and Jesus nodded even though the older man wasn’t quite looking at him, kissing his tights slowly while he started applying more pressure on Daryl’s cock; he ran his thumb on that head – finally deciding to take it to his mouth – sucking on it for awhile and tasting Daryl on his tongue, humming, sending vibrations all over Daryl’s body. “That’s part of my plan.” Jesus whispered and Daryl looked at him for a few seconds, alternating between staring at those blue eyes and looking at that hand, still stroking him, squeezing it, speeding up the strokes as if he was trying to take Daryl’s soul away with it. “You’re so hot, Daryl. You’ve got no idea.”

“Fuck, Paul…” Daryl rasped while running his left hand on his face, “c’mere.”

Jesus went closer to Daryl, almost sitting on his lap and kissing him for the first time that day. It was aggressive, like they were about to die, like it was their last moment together but the only real problem was that they’d missed each other – maybe that was the point.

Jesus let out a desperate moan when Daryl’s hand reached for his cock still trapped inside his jeans and he couldn’t help but thrust against nothing, too lost to care. “Please,” He murmured already forgetting about trying to make Daryl fall apart and falling apart himself while the older man smirked, unbuttoning Jesus’ jeans and taking the hard cock in hand. “Please what?” Daryl murmured, voice too controlled but Jesus knew better than to trust that tone, so he just moaned, right hand running forcefully on Daryl’s shoulders and left one still providing him with uncoordinated strokes.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jesus focused on Daryl’s cock, increasing the speed of his hand again while he felt Daryl’s hot and exhausted breath reaching for his neck, his eyes opening for just a fraction of second and staring at the older man’s skin, thoughts unbelievably lost on another things he could be doing with Daryl; it was never enough, he knew that too.

He’d realized that a few months ago, no matter what he does or how many times, if it is with Daryl, it feels like the first time, always – and it almost swallows him completely – this weird thing, this feeling of emptiness even when he’s whole, even when he couldn’t imagine anything better.

“Gonn’ cum.” Daryl mumbled, lips touching Jesus’ sweaty skin for a few moments before he threw his head back again – and hitting the headboard in the process – his face didn’t change, though.

He didn’t care. Couldn’t.

It didn’t take much more for him to finally come, painting Jesus’ smaller fingers and t-shirt with it, sighing with his head still back and eyes closed and never stopping his own hand on Jesus’ cock.

When Daryl realized Jesus had his own thumb inside his mouth – eyes open and daring as if he was about to combust right there in front of Daryl, as if he loved the taste of it, as if he was born to be there, do that, feel that – Daryl thought he’d come a second time.

He didn’t, though, trying to keep his eyes open and increasing the pace on Jesus’ cock, sinking his fingers on Jesus hips while the younger man made a face, opening his mouth as if ready to shout.

He didn’t also. His mouth wouldn’t let him say anything because he was already coming – on Daryl’s hand, the mattress, probably a pillow – while his fingers locked themselves forcefully on Daryl’s hair.

Daryl chuckled weakly, only one eye open while Jesus tried to breathe right, licking his lips nervously over and over again before finally falling on the mattress – or the mess – beside Daryl, sighing and almost not realizing Daryl had placed one hand on his stomach.

“Clean up?”

Daryl hummed as an answer while Jesus frowned at him, poking his arm.

“Sleep.” Daryl rasped and didn’t move.

“Ok.” Jesus murmured, staring at Daryl’s face for a few extra seconds, running his index finger on Daryl’s collarbone.

Jesus thought Daryl was asleep while he kissed the older man in the chin.

He wasn’t.

 

 

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate writing smut (bc i'm awful at it) but......¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Can't get a hold of myself obviously. [I feel the need.......the need for Desus smut......]  
> Also, I can't write something about these two without Jesus poking Daryl somehow, forgive me.
> 
> *starts running*


End file.
